To Restore Honor
by 2lieutenant
Summary: After the war, the Rat Patrol needs Dietrich's assistance in convicting Captain Krause of war crimes.
1. Chapter 1

_The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."_  
 _― Edmund Burke_

Dietrich walked into a grubby bar in Berlin and sat down. "Ein Bier, bitte."

While he waited for his drink, he thought about what was happening to Germany. He had seen in the newspapers the terrible plight of the Jews. How ashamed he was to know his country had done that. The looks the Allied soldiers gave him hurt deeply. But who could blame them? He had not done as much to help the others as he should have. Many of his former fellow soldiers were being held as prisoners.

Honestly, Dietrich was afraid for them. How many would be killed in fits of anger by Allied soldiers? He had heard that many German POWs were being unfairly treated by the Allies. Just the week before, Dietrich had witnessed a former German soldier attacked and then killed. There had been nothing he could do to stop the brutality.

Dietrich hated the feeling of powerlessness. But really, he told himself, he should have become used to it, and long before Germany and the Reich had fallen.

After all, he'd been powerless to do anything for a very long time.

He had been called back to Berlin just before the war in North Africa had ended. Dietrich had hardly returned to a hero's welcome. The High Command had suspected him of being part of in a plot to assassinate Hitler, he had been lucky he had not met his end hanging from a meat hook. Instead, because of Dietrich's celebrity status, the High Command had chosen to promote him, and then, to sentence him to a desk job and a promotion to keep him quiet.

How he had hated that job! It had been such a humiliation.

Even Rommel had not been was not able to help Dietrich, because he too was under investigation. But at least, Dietrich hadn't been executed. After all, the High Command had already been planninged to discreetly murder Rommel. They couldn't arouse suspicion by the "mysterious death" of yet another famous war hero.

After the war had ended, he had been pardoned and freed due to the fact he had provided the Allies with information, albeit a bit unwillingly.

The bartender set the beer down in front of Dietrich, interrupting his thoughts..

"Danke." Dietrich took a sip and grimaced. It was terrible.

Behind him a new voice spoke, "It is not to your liking?"

Dietrich turned around and came face to face with Sergeant Moffitt of the Rat Patrol. Next to him were the rest of the Rat Patrol, and surprisingly, Christina.

Dietrich swallowed his surprise along with a mouthful of the foul beer. Quickly hiding his surprise he replied, "It is quite bad."

"Then perhaps you would not object to this." From his pack, Moffitt produced a carefully wrapped bundled. With a flourish, he removed the protective covering to reveal a bottle of very good champagne.

Dietrich eyed the champagne suspiciously. "What is this for?" he asked.

"Does the name Hauptmann Wanasee ring a bell?"

They knew about that! "It sounds familiar," Dietrich said, keeping both his voice and his expression carefully neutral. "But, what does he have to do with me?"

"Come now, Captain. Don't give me that. You were the only one who could have shot him. Rest assured, I'm not here to get you in any trouble."

Dietrich tried to change the subject. He looked at Christina. "How are you enjoying Berlin?"

Christina smiled. "It is a lovely city."

"Can we get back to the original topic, please?" asked Moffitt. "We're not here to chitchat."

"No? Then why are you here? Surely you did not track me down just to give me champagne."

"We need your help. We need you to testify against a Captain Krause," Troy explained.

"What do you need me for? The Lieutenant," Dietrich inclined his head at Christina, "was the one abused."

"That's why Christina is here." Troy nodded. "We'll use her, too. She'll testify. But, we also need you."

"I am afraid I still don't quite understand."

"We're quite certain Krause was is behind an order to kill all the Jewish soldiers he had captured. We need you to talk to the men under him and try and verify that fact."

"You do not need me for that." Dietrich looked at Moffitt. "At least one of you speaks reasonable German."

Moffitt snorted at the near insult. "Reasonable, eh?"

Troy held up his hand. "Moffitt would do it himself; but the court said it had to be someone who would not threaten or intimidate the men."

It did make some a degree of sense to Dietrich. "But then, you also expect me to testify against the man myself?"

"Yep," said Troy. " In other words, you. You're are a German officer, your testifying against another officer will hold more weight than if we did it alone. You'll bury them."

Dietrich narrowed his eyes. He wondered if Troy understood what he was asking. "What makes you think I will agree to do it?"

"Because you're a good man," said Tully.

"And, an honorable soldier," Moffitt added.

"Honor?" Dietrich stiffened. "You are talking to me about my honor? I am afraid you are giving me far more credit than is due."

Five pairs of eyes looked at Dietrich with curiosity.

"Let me tell you a story. When Hitler first took over Germany, I saw right through him. But I was too concerned about my military career to try to do anything to stop him. That night, that awful night which began the hell and the horror of it all, the night of Kristallnacht, I was there," Dietrich said. "Did you know that? I stood there and I did not do anything to stop them! Where was my honor then, I ask you?"

Moffitt shook his head slowly in protest. "You're not to blame, not for any of those things."

"Am I not?" Dietrich dismissed the well-meaning words with a wave of his hand. "There is far more to this story, I am afraid. When they burned all those forbidden books, I was there. When they ordered all the Jews to wear stars, I was there. The only thing I did not do, was commit all these acts myself. I knew Hitler was wrong. But slowly, I persuaded myself that there was nothing I could do, that it was enough that I was not partake in them myself. I swiftly rose through the ranks. I was used for propaganda promoting the Third Reich. During all this, I never did anything to help the unfortunate people around me. Eventually, I met Field Marshall Rommel. He showed me what being a soldier meant. It didn't mean following someone else's orders blindly. It meant caring for your country and trying to protect it. When I got sent to North Africa, I promised myself no matter what happened, I would never sink to the methods of some of my fellow officers. I even tried to assist in a plot to assassinate Hitler. When I was called back to Germany, I was given a desk job and a promotion and told to keep quiet. I didn't, and helped the few remaining Jews to escape. I gave them money and a safe house. But it was all too little, and too late. What exactly does that make me?"

"I'd say it makes you an honorable man, Captain," Troy said finally, having digested Dietrich's story.

"I didn't do anything to stop Hitler before that. How can you call me honorable?"

"Because," said Hitch, " If you had no honor, you would' have continued to do nothing. And, you did something, didn't you? At least, what you could."

The rest of them nodded their agreement with Hitch's statement.

"What's it going to be, Captain?" Troy looked Dietrich in the eye. "Maybe you couldn't do anything to stop all of the awful things that the Nazis and Hitler did, but now, you can see justice done."

Dietrich looked intently at all of them. At last, he spoke. "Alright, I will do it."

Moffitt smiled. "Thank you, Captain." He called to the barkeep and flashed him a few Reichsmarks.

As improbable as it was, within moments crystal flutes appeared before them.

After Moffitt had filled them. He raised his own his champagne glass. There was a twinkle in his eye which rivalled the sparkle of the champagne. "To the man who saved my life."

"Hear, Hear," the rest of them echoed.

Dietrich smiled slightly and nodded, neither declining or accepting the credit he was being given. Even with the war over, somethings were better left a mystery.

"When and where shall I report tomorrow?" Dietrich asked.

"At 07:00 in the Allied Headquarters. That is where Krause and his men will be brought for interrogation. After we are done with them, they will be sent back to Dachau until the trial."

"Very well, gentleman. I will be there." Dietrich saluted and left.


	2. Chapter 2

_The world will not be destroyed by those who do evil, but by those who watch them without doing anything._ _\- Albert Einstein_

The next day, Dietrich met them at Allied Headquarters. "Hello, Captain. Glad you could make it."

"Actually, it's 'Major'. I see you and Sergeant Moffitt are Captains now."

"Yes, and Hitch and Tully were promoted to Sergeant."

Dietrich turned to them. "Congratulations."

"Thanks, Major."

They took Dietrich to a room to brief him. "As you well know, the Gestapo were masters at torture. Krause was one of their top men in that department. After he obtained the wanted information, the Gestapo let him do what he wanted with the prisoners. If they were men, he tortured them. If they were women, he raped them before he tortured them. He was especially cruel to any Jews he came across. The man was very imaginative when it came to ways of torturing. He would inject different drugs to see how it would affect the prisoner. He would also skin them and use their skins as lampshades. He had a whole collection of these lamps. Needless to say, the man was sick. We need you to question the men under his command and see if they can verify this information."

Dietrich nodded, "I will try my best."

"That's all we could ask for," said Moffitt, "Let's go."

He was led to the room where the men were to be questioned. They took a man by the name of Schneider to question first. He was badly bruised and his face was swollen. Christina and Moffit sat down to take notes, while the other men sat in the next room listening to the conversation by way of a listening device.

Dietrich sat down across from Schneider. "I am here to ask you some questions."

The man looked up and gasped. "Hauptmann Dietrich? I thought you had been killed by the Gestapo."

"Corporal Schneider! What were you doing with the Gestapo? What happened to your face?"

Schneider answered, "After you had been sent to Berlin, Captain Krause took me to be his aide. He told me you had been killed for plotting to assassinate the Fuhrer." He leaned forward and said, "Good for you, Herr Hauptmann. Anyways, he said I had to join him or be court martialed for treason. I told him, 'Fine, go ahead.' But then he said he would have my whole family killed too. I couldn't let that happen. We were captured by the Soviets and treated badly. That's what happened to my face. I'm so glad to see you are alive, Hauptmann Dietrich."

"I'm glad to see you are alive too, Schneider. I need to ask you some questions about Captain Krause. Did he torture the prisoners after the Gestapo was finished with them?"

Schneider nodded, "He had a whole box of things to torture them with. I saw them."

"Can you describe the instruments he used?"

"There were all sorts of knives, whips and even some medicine to cause hallucination. He would inject it into them and then cut them open with a scalpel. With the women, he would rape them while they were hallucinating. That was how he would break them. The men, he would slowly let starve, then he would put them in a very hot room until they either cooperated, or died."

Moffitt and Christina, who were sitting in the corner taking notes, looked at each other in horrified amazement.

"What was your involvement in this?" Dietrich asked.

Schneider's eyes filled with guilt and sadness. "I cleaned up after him and fed the prisoners. Sometimes I would manage to sneak them a cyanide pill. I couldn't do this too often, otherwise he would have gotten suspicious. I only did it to the women or the very weak. I remembered your words, Herr Hauptmann. You said, 'If we do nothing to stop wrongdoing, that makes us just as guilty as those who did the wrongdoing.' I tried my best to stop him. I was part of the Underground. I would try to warn those I knew whose lives were in danger, but I didn't always get to them in time." He broke down sobbing.

Dietrich let him regain his composure before speaking, "Thank you, Corporal. That will be all for now."

Schneider looked at Dietrich pleadingly. "You understand why I couldn't, right Hauptmann?"

Dietrich nodded slowly, his own eyes filled with tears, "I understand, Schneider." Dietrich sat down and stared into the distance long after Schneider was taken away. At last he spoke, "This is what I was involved in? This is what I helped to protect?" His voice was filled with horror and sorrow.

Moffitt spoke, "You didn't know..."

Dietrich interrupted him, "I did know. Oh, I didn't know all the details, but I knew enough. I knew the Gestapo tortured their prisoners, and I hardly did anything against it." He got up and said, "I am late for my job, I must be going."

"Where can we contact you?"

Dietrich gave them the address where he worked, then left.


	3. Chapter 3

_"When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it-always."_  
 _― Mahatma Gandhi_

Dietrich left and went to his dingy apartment to change into his waiter's uniform. He had no trouble getting the apartment, for the owner had been part of the Underground, and had been left almost entirely alone by the Allies. The man knew of Dietrich's reputation, and harbored no qualms against leasing him the apartment. In fact, he had tried to persuade Dietrich into taking a much nicer apartment, Dietrich's pride would not let him take something he could not afford. To him, it was charity, and Dietrich had been raised never to accept charity.

Dietrich walked to the restaurant. How he hated the job. It wasn't the job itself that bothered him the most, he had been a waiter during his teenage years, he despised the sympathetic and pitying looks that he received from those who recognized him. Curse that propaganda! If he hadn't participated in it, no one would recognize him now. He knew he had been fairly lucky compared to others. He hadn't been put in a POW camp, and he was especially thankful the Soviets hadn't captured him. He shuddered to think of what would have happened to him if they had. He arrived at the restaurant and started his shift. His first customer was a young Allied soldier.

"I would like a glass of wine and some wiener schnitzel with sauerkraut," the young man ordered in halting German.

Dietrich was startled. Not many non-Germans enjoyed sauerkraut or wiener schnitzel.

The soldier noticed his surprised expression and smiled, "My grandparents are German, and they used to make sauerkraut. I quite enjoy it."

Dietrich nodded, "I see. I will have it ready as soon as possible." Dietrich gave the order to the cook, and went to wait on his next customer.

"Is there something I can get you, ma'am?" he asked.

The woman looked up. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Are you...?"

Dietrich sighed, "Yes I am."

"What is a famous war hero like you doing in a place like this? Such a disgrace and humiliation," the woman babbled on and on.

Dietrich couldn't take anymore. "Is there something I can get for you, ma'am?" he asked again.

The woman paid him no heed and continued on with her babbling. "And that you should be reduced to such a state as waiting. How terrible!"

Dietrich's blood began to boil. "Is there anything I can get you, ma'am?" His tone was icy.

The woman finally took the hint and ordered. Dietrich was greatly relieved. He disliked these sorts of customers. They made him thoroughly uncomfortable. His shift couldn't end soon enough for him. In the meantime, there was a table of five waiting for him. Hopefully they would tip decently. His rent was due soon. When he neared their table he froze. The women turned and smiled.

"Hello, Major," Christina said.

The other four men turned.

"Fancy meeting you here, Major," Hitch grinned.

Dietrich's back stiffened. "Indeed, and why are you here?"

"Would you believe us if we told you we were craving sauerkraut?" Troy asked.

Dietrich stared at him. "No. I would not. Again, why are you here?"

"When does your shift end?"

In about fifteen minutes."

"Okay, we'll talk then."

Dietrich turned to leave but was stopped by Christina.

"Excuse me, but could I have some sauerkraut?"

"Most Americans don't like it, Fraulein," Dietrich warned.

"I know, but I would like to try it."

"I will bring you some."

"Thank you."

Dietrich nodded and presently returned with a plate of sauerkraut. They watched as she took a bite.

"It's quite good," she said surprised.

Dietrich smiled. "I see at least one among you has good taste."

Moffitt snorted. "Hardly, she also likes liver, olives, and spam."

Christina defended herself, "They're good."

"I've never met anybody but you who likes spam," remarked Troy.

An angry voice cut in, "Hey, we're waiting for some service." A man sat near their table looking annoyed.

Dietrich hastened to comply.


End file.
